Family Matters
by Orka
Summary: The expedition attracted msny people scientists, doctors, diplomats, soldiers, and, hidden among them, people who were trying to forget that magic ever existed. People like Rodney McKay. Chapter five is up!
1. The Guy I Wish Would Die

OOOOOOOOOKAAAAAAAAAAY; I don't own Stargate. I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Egypt. I do own this idea.

_**HPXxXSGA**_

It was a one way trip. It didn't matter what they said about lost cities being chocked full of ancient technology, and the statistically improbability of a ZPM not being among the debris left behind, if all of the Stargate teams over a period of seven years had come across one, singular solitary, lonely-not to mention depleted-ZPM, why should being in another galaxy change the statistics? They were going to go through that Stargate and never see Earth again- at least not for a long, long time.

That suited him just fine. And judging by the names on the list of those going, he wasn't alone. Peter Grodin- he was pretty sure that was one of the infamous Creevy brothers, if the degree in photography was anything to go by. Laura Madden-her profile practically screamed Debbie Greengrass, a rather mischievous Ravenclaw that had been in the year above his. There were more, and he'd probably add a few to the list after he'd gotten to know them. Running away couldn't be so bad.

And then he saw who his boss was going to be.

She-it. His boss was Dr. Rodney McKay, a kalb, to use a handy curse word he had picked up in Egypt. A pathetic little worm who betrayed his family and all but signed their death warrants, the bastard.

Then again, maybe it could.

_**HPXxXSGA**_

Reviews are to Good as Kolya is to Bad


	2. The Uses of Broom Cupboards

**January 18, 1998**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland**

**A Broom Cupboard**

You'd think that after you fight Voldemort and Death Eaters on a regular basis for nearly seven years, blind panic would be a fairly familiar sensation. You'd also think that, as such you'd be used to thinking and talking and acting through it.

No such luck.

"Bloody hell." I gasped. It was dark, really, really dark, and I was really, really disoriented. The best I could do was glare blurrily at something which was shaped like a human being. "Did that just...bloody hell... what... how ... why?"

"You know Mr. Weasley, I do believe that was babbling." A blob slightly to the left of the one I was staring at moved closer to me. I attempted to take an involuntary step back, but was stopped by the simple fact that I was wedged into a corner.

"Um...okay..." I said, wondering if the thing pressed against my thigh was the doorknob. "And babbling's... good, somehow?"

"Oh yes, very."She-it was a she, right?-was moving rather too close for comfort. "You're very cute when you babble."

I wanted to ask how she-it was definitely a she, I could tell that now-could possibly see whether or not I was cute, but opted for the more useful question.

"Who the bloody hell are you?"

"Guess." she implored, pressing up against me, making it very, very hard to say anything that even vaguely resembled the English language. Or any language for that matter. In fact, I think what I said was "Grvzpltqrpt?"

"Hmm...I don't think there's anyone by that name in this school. Try again." she breathed into my ear. My mind chose that minute to ground back into action, and quickly procured the following list.

Girl Devious Enough to Ambush Me on My Way to Divination, Stuff Me in a Broom Closet, and Then Proceed to Snog My Brains Out

1) Someone from Slytherin-let's not go their

2) Ginny-eww...

Which leaves my crush as of nearly three years ago...

"Hermione?" I asked hopefully

"Right" she answered. Before snogging my brains out again. Unfortunately, we were interrupted by the whole of Hogwarts beginning to shake as the wall separating us from McGonagall's class collapsed.

AUTHORS NOTES, REPLIES AND RAMBLINGS:

A) If anyone wants to guess who Rodney is, please feel free.

B) Chapters are going to be short, but that means I'll be able to update faster.

C) This is Ron's POV, in case you couldn't figure that out. This is, obviously, Ron/Hermione, with a little Harry/Ginny and Neville/Luna, even though JK has officially said those two won't get together. Atlantis pairings pending.

D) Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated. There's a nice little button just waiting to be poked in the bottom left hand corner...


	3. Back At The Mess

**January 17, 2008**

**Atlantis, The City of the Ancients**

**Mess Hall**

"Can I sit here?"

I looked up from and the table and see that yes, ladies and gentlemen, it appears that at three in the morning I am the only one in the mess hall. Which means there are 399 empty seats. I'm touched, if more than slightly annoyed- not an unusual combination where John is concerned.

"Sure go ahead." I answered vaguely, returning to the power usage computations I'm supposed to be working on. The ZedPM on the Daedalus was half-drained when it had arrived here, and the constant use of the shields and monthly wormholes to Earth were only depleting it further. At this rate, we'd be out of power within five years, unless we resurfaced the city when we weren't under attack by the Wraith, we might be able to stretch it to seven, but that would leave us completely vulnerable to any sort of attack. What if the Wraith developed cloaks or something? Or if they learned to fool our sensors or sabotaged them or...oh, what did it matter anyway?

"Okay McKay, I give up. What's bothering you?"

Huh? How'd he know? "Since when am I bothered by anything?" I asked.

John stared at me in disbelief. "Rodney, it seems like everything bothers you. And I do mean everything." he shook his head silently. "So...what's up?"

"Last time I checked, there was a roof on the mess hall." I reminded him. John made an exasperated growling noise at the back of his throat. It's his own fault.

"McKay, what is you're thinking about that has let you get your coffee get cold." he demanded.

"My coffee's not cold." I pointed out, taking a sip to prove my point- then spitting it back out again, as it _was _cold, and apparently, I had taken the Asthosian goat milk instead of the half and half from Earth. Alien goat milk and Starbucks _do not _mix.

"Okay, so it's cold and tastes like crap. Since when is that a crime?" I retorted, placing the offending cup an arms length away.

"Since it's _your_ coffee. You love coffee. You live for coffee. You have long since ceased to get your fluids from anywhere else. I highly doubt that there's any blood left in your caffeine stream."

All of that was technically true. Not that I could tell him that. "Was there a point in there?"

"Yes, and here it is- your coffee is never cold. In fact, it's hardly ever in your cup long enough for us sane people to drink it with burning our tongues off. Hence forth, you were think about something so important that it put coffee on the back burner. And I want to know what it is."

"Good for you. It's nice to have goals." I replied, trying to focus on the predictions in front of me, which suddenly made absolutely no sense.

"You know Rodney, we could do this the hard way, namely I follow you around for the next six weeks an annoy the shit out of you, which will doubtlessly attract the attention of several people, such as our team, your team, Elizabeth, Bates' team, and pretty much everyone else on the city. Or you could just tell me now and unless it's something incredibly dangerous or embarrassing I'll never mention it again." he smirked slightly. "Probably."

And the Sorting Hat says...Slytherin! Sadly, as evil and insincere as he sounds, I know he is telling the truth; he won't tell anyone unless it's valuable blackmailing material or a security risk, and if I were a Muggle I would tell him everything right now. But I'm not a Muggle, and if I let anything slip...let's just say I've screwed up enough people's lives without having The Big Secret (note capital letters) come out on my account.

"Does it have something to do with your family?"

The fact that he's eerily good at guessing really doesn't help me either. Plus, he was telling the truth about annoying me; last time he had kept at it for six months until Elizabeth snapped and ordered us to tell her what was going on. She had nearly broken down into hysterical laughter when she found out that we had been screaming every four-letter word in three languages because I wouldn't tell him what my parents were like.

"Yeah." I sighed deeply, trying to give myself time to figure out what I could tell him. "You see, well, ten years ago tomorrow, there was an accident, and that private school I went to...blew up. And that's when , well, my family died."

"Oh...that sucks." No, really? And I though I was sitting here miserable because it _didn't _suck. But I didn't say that, mostly because I happened to be paged by Miko before I could.

"Dr. McKay? Dr. Zelenka and Dr. Kavanagh are getting...um...very loud. I believe it would a good idea for you to...um...be getting down here? Soon?"

"Alright. Be there in a minute." I turned to John. "Well, it's been fun, but..."

"There's something you're not telling me." he stated.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." I lied cheerfully. "Good night, Colonel."

I could fell his disbelieving glare all the way out of the mess hall.

GENERAL AUTHOR'S NOTES, RESPONSES AND RAMBLINGS

**PurpleYin**-Yes, short chapters are evil, but this one is slightly longer, and if I went with my original plan of long chapters none of this would be up yet.

**PentagonMerlin**-Weird-yes. These are two of my favorite things too.

**missmcweir**-Actually, I was toying with the idea of Rodney being Snape, but I threw that away

**Belisse**-Your wish is my command.

Any guesses-and feel free to review, as always!


	4. Trouble At Hogwarts

**January 18, 1998  
****Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland  
****What Used To Be the Transfiguration Classroom**

"Mr. Weasley and...Ms. Granger?"

I've always considered Professor McGonagall as a very unemotional, collected sort of person. But then again, I suppose having the entire castle shake, a wall in front of you collapse, and two kissing teenagers nearly fall on top of you would fluster just about anyone.

"Um... that wasn't us?" Hermione offered. McGonagall merely blinked. Wow, we must have really shocked her...

My worries for her mental health were cut short when Hogwarts began to shake again, occupying my mind with more pressing matters.

Such as our lives.

**Same Date  
****Same Location  
****The Headmaster's Office**

Dumbledore surveyed the Pensive over the tops of his fingers, blue eyes watery with unshed tears of regret and longing. The silvery strands of his thoughts had formed themselves into the figure of attractive young girl in her mid-twenties. She was obviously as Seer, and she was likewise finishing a prophecy.

"...and the two worlds shall become whole

as secrets revealed ten years

after the shaking of foundational font commences

eight from that time; ten from after

shall join at the ancient city

what was broken shall become whole once more

where it was once shattered

heralding the Dark Lord's fall..."

Her voice echoed slightly around room, and for the third time in as many minutes, the halls of the school shook with a tremendous force that could be generated by only one thing. Sadly, Dumbledore rose from his seated position a strode through the door, pausing as he reached it to turn back towards the bowl, where the figure of his love still rotated slightly.

"I'm so sorry, Cassandra. You were right, as always."

**Same Date  
****Same Location  
****What Used To Be the Transfiguration Classroom**

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

I turned instinctively, then relaxed slightly as I saw my best mate Harry, and my sister Ginny, wands drawn and steady, keeping the large pieces of debris floating, and from crushing us into oblivion.

"Hermione! Ron! Get out from under there you twits!" Ginny hissed. Hurriedly, Hermione grabbed my wrist and pulled me out from underneath the floating rocks. I looked back for a second, then quickly turned away as I caught sight of a disembodied arm peeking out from between two large blocks of stone.

"Harry-what's happened?" Hermione asked, still clutching my arm.

"I don't know. But it's not Voldemort." he said, running a hand through his hair.

"What!" I spluttered. "But, who?"

"We don't know." Ginny answered. "We checked the Marauder's Map, no Tom, no Death Eaters, not even a visitor, save the twins, and they're on Order business. No one."

"But then, but-" I was cut off as Hogwarts gave a tremendous, shuddering groan. I looked out a wide, deeply set window to my left, searching for the source of the noise. I found it.

Gryffindor Tower was falling, spiraling down towards the ground in a surprisingly slow arc -along with everyone inside it.

GENERAL AUTHORS RAMBLINGS, NOTES, AND RESPONSES:

**Belisse**-Hey, I'm updating pretty quickly, right? Anyone?

Actually, I'm surprised at how quickly this is being written. I actually know what's going to happen four, five chapters in the future. It's writting itself. I just can't type all that fast.

**Laheara**- Here's your more Ron. About Kavanagh though, yes, he is a wizard, but actually, I'm toying with the idea of him being a good guy who turned sorta bitter.

**PurpleYin**-Well, I know who Rodney is, but you aren't going to find out for at least three more chapters. Sorry, but it's too muchfun to be evil. _cackles_If you would update Lilith faster, however...

As always, reviews are very, very good.


	5. Denial: Shocked and Confused

**January 18 2008  
****Atlantis, The Lost City of The Ancients  
****The Infirmary**

_I couldn't see. Probably because it was dark, and there was smoke all around me. Smoke that really had no business being that thick and dark when only a few trees were burning and some scattered control panels sparking. It's not like there was anything that really could have been smoldering that much since most of the debris I was picking my way through was twisted metal and broken stone…_

_And bodies. I tried not to think about those. I was looking for survivors, not dead weight to carry. It was hard enough trying to walk through the mess as it was..._

There was a loud crashing noise and a sharp pain in my arm. With a shout, I suddenly landed on the floor of the infirmary.

**January 18 2008  
****Atlantis, The Lost City of The Ancients  
****Dr. Weir's Office**

I walked into the control room and noticed that the cute French tech girl was on gate duty. Strolling past her through the doorway into Elizabeth's office, I was promptly knocked on my ass.

"Ow!"

"Whoops, sorry." Recognizing that southern accent, I was ungracefully hauled back to my feet.

"No problem. It's not like I was knocked unconscious by a bronze paper weight just last night or anything," I snarked. "Oh, wait...I was!"

Major Dana Ursa was quickly becoming the fifth worst bane of my life. She would be, after lack of coffee, the Wraith, Kolya, and Kavanagh.

After my remark she only rolled her eyes and left the room, managing to step on** all **of my paperwork on the way.

Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head slightly. "You know Rodney, that really wasn't her fault."

"Yes, I'm so sure it wasn't," I said moodily, bending down to salvage my lab reports. "Just like it wasn't her intent to hit me in the face with her gun the other day. Or to shoot me in the thigh. Or to put all of last month's lab reports in the shredder."

"Well, you do have to admit that she is a bit clumsy," Elizabeth allowed as she helped me pick up the now dirty papers.

"And you have to admit that there is no way she managed to pour three and a half gallons of boiling water over my head in the mess hall last week. I mean she's almost six inches shorter than me. Something like that is just not possible."

"True...but it **wasn't**boiling Rodney," she reminded me.

"That's besides that point." I said with a wave of my hand. "Anyhoo, I have the latest power extrapolations, and a shopping list of the supplies we need. It's divided into the categories of "needed yesterday", "will need soon", and "would be really, really nice to have." Oh, and the latest lab reports, including the ones the Evil Mistress of Doom destroyed."

Elizabeth choked into her coffee. "Did you just say...Evil Mistress of Doom?"

"Yeah, what else am I supposed call her?" I asked.

"Major Ursa?" she suggested.

"What's the point of having a nickname if it's your real name?" I protested.

"There isn't one...Superman." she smirked evilly.

"Oooo, that's just low!" I protested, throwing my hands up in the air.

"And Evil Mistress of Doom is..."

"Accurate."

Elizabeth snorted into her coffee. "You really don't like her, do you?"

"I have my reasons. The top of which being the non-boiling water."

Elizabeth sighed, and looked down at the mess of paperwork spread across her desk, and fished out a large manila envelope. "Do you need Radek over the next few days?"

"Not unless we're going to try and build nuclear bombs with an impossible time limit, save people who've gotten trapped in the gate, pull the city out of an unlock able lockdown, or repair flood damage again." I replied, mentally ticking off the times when Radek has come in handy. "Why?"

"He's being confined to quarters for three days," she informed me. I stared.

"What? Why?" I asked in shock.

"Well...he did throw a bronze paperweight at your forehead and according the Miko he was the one who started the fist fight." I sighed heavily. When she's right, she's right.

"Okay...point taken. Though I'm fairly certain he didn't throw the paperweight at me on purpose. What'd you do to Kavanagh?" I mused.

"He's confined to quarters for 24 hours." Elizabeth told me with a smirk.

"Well... at least we get one Kavanagh free-day." I sighed. "Maybe we should hold an unofficial holiday."

"Tempting...but I'd hate to see the paperwork that would require," she gestured down at her desk, which, as I mention before, was completely covered in paperwork all in various stages of completion.

"I think I've been a bad influence on you," I noted. "You weren't nearly this disorganized when we first came to Atlantis."

"Well, disorganized chaos works so well for you, I thought I'd give it a try," she retorted.

"I have a system!" I protested. "It just based on phi, so most people don't understand it."

"Fee?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah-- don't tell me you've never heard of the divine proportion?" I questioned, shocked.

"No I can't-" she was cut off by the loud klaxon wailing of the alarm.

"Yipee, another adventure." I muttered sarcastically, walking with Elizabeth to the control room.

**January 18 2008  
****Atlantis, The Lost City of The Ancients  
****The Control Room**

In the control room was a very strange sight.

The gate was active; which wasn't unusual. No IDC was coming through, but that wasn't so difficult to believe. Whatwas odd was that the gate was alight with more symbols than was usual.

Twelve of them to be exact.

"What's going on?" I asked the tech.

"I do not know!" she practically screamed, pounding random buttons on the keyboard. "Ze gate, it just started up, and it won't shut down! And I cannot get ze shield up!"

"Let me have a look," I ordered. Wordlessly, she pushed her chair back as far away from the computer as possible. I tried several of the basic override alga rhythms, and all of the more complex ones, than I gave up and shut down the computer.

The screen went blank, I breathed a sigh of relief, and looked at the Stargate, waiting for it shut down. Waiting. Waiting.

Still waiting...

"Nothing's happening." Elizabeth observed. I turned to face her.

"Yes, I kn--"

"What ze 'ell!"

I looked over at the French girl and found her staring at the computer in shock. I looked down at the screen, and found myself unintentionally mimicking her expression.

The screen was no longer black-- unless you counted the color of the greasy hair and billowing robes of my ex-potions professor. He appeared to be in the gate room of the SGC, of all places.

"Well, well, well, Mr. Weasley. I'm afraid I'll have to take a few points from Gryfindor," he sneered. I stared at the computer in shock for nearly thirty seconds, before it gave me another one.

Literally.

"Ow!" I yelped, cradling my now-burnt hand to my chest. "That hurts!"

"Dr. Beckett, please report to the gate room. Sgt. Bates, we need a security team in here." Elizabeth ordered into her earpiece. She then turned to look at me. "What was that all about?"

"I --"

"Look out!" shouted one of the marines stationed by the gate. I snapped my head up in time to see large pieces of debris come hurdling into the gate room, heading straight for us.

"Get down!" I roared, reflexively grabbing Elizabeth's arm and forcing her down as a piece of stone flew threw the air above us, impacting on the briefing room wall and shattering the glass.

"What was that?' another marine asked.

"Don't look at me! I don't know!" I protested, shakily helping Elizabeth to her feet.

"Rodney..." she said warily.

"What?" I snapped, more because of the fact that she was squeezing my burnt hand very, very tightly than anything else.

"People are coming through," she calmly informed me, staring at the gate.

I too stared. The first to come through was a tall, gangly boy, who was trying to balance an unconscious girl in a fireman's hold and keep a slender piece of wood level. Another, short girl whose blonde hair was tangled in an unmanageable mess, was trying to support a badly limping young man soon followed. They too were carrying the same sort of sticks.

_No not sticks-- wands. These were wizards._

_Or at least they would be if that weren't impossible on many levels._

"Bloody hell," the tall kid whispered in a British accent. "Where are we?"

"I dunno." answered the boy with the injured leg, his voice sounding more Welsh. "Someplace else?"

"I have an idea." began the girl, but she was interrupted by a joyous shout from the doorway. Major Ursa had left her post and was rushing towards the gangly boy.

"Ron! Hermione!" she shouted, engulfing him in a fierce hug, causing him to drop his wand.

_No. Nononononono. She did not just call them what I thought she called them. And he **does not** have red hair. No way. Not possible. Not happening._

"Do I know you?" he demanded, once Ursa pulled away. She gave a sort of half skip and suddenly her mouse brown hair turn violent bubble-gum pink. "Nymphadora Tonks, at your service, though if you ever call me Nymphadora, I will kill you."

"Tonks!" cried the limping guy, slurring the word a little. "Where are we? What's going on?"

"That was what I--" but once again the blonde witch was cut off by the appearance of two young men stumbling through the event horizon.

_This isn't happening. Nope, not happening. And the twins did not just step through the Stargate. Yessiree, they most certainly did not._

"Fred! George!" shouted Major Ursa/ Nymphadora Tonks, rushing over to hug them too, her hair changing to an alarming shade of lime green.

"How does she do that?" Elizabeth asked, looking bewildered. The marines must of felt the same way, because very few of them were still holding their guns at level, and only three were still in a crouching position. Two started to help the Welsh guy and the girl whose name was **not** Luna.

"Since when does she have a British accent?" I countered, absently watching as a Green Beret joined the happy little reunion at the base of the stairs.

_Not that it actually happened, mind you. Because there is no way in hell, heaven, earth, or Atlantis, that dead people can miraculously come back to life and appear in a different galaxy._

_Sort of like a scrawny little kid with unmanageable black hair called Potter, who just happened to be the wizarding world's savior, did not just fall through the Gate before it closes, screeching my sister's name. _

"**Mon Deus!** Zhis can not be!" the tech whispered. "'arry Potter?"

"Why...don't you go find out?" I suggested, as she ran down the stairs.

"Who's Harry Potter?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Someone who didn't just come through the Stargate." I said cheerfully.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" said a voice from behind us. I jumped around almost knocking into Carson. "Ack, lad, what did ye do to yer hand?"

"It wasn't me! It was Snape!" I protested.

"Who?" Carson asked.

"Never mind." I said quickly. "Let's just get out of here."

"No need lad, I can do it here," he responded, holding up a first aid kit. "The burns aren't serious. Though I expect they sting like the dickens."

"Yeah, that's right." I mumbled, as I watched Bates' team thundered into the control room.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"I don't know!" Elizabeth shouted, exasperated. "Why don't you ask Major Ursa, she seems to!"

"My name isn't Ursa, it's Tonks." squealed...whoever she was, practically skipping as her hair changed colors, something Bates only just seemed to noticed. "And we need Carson down here, Hermione is in a bad way, and Neville's ankle is broken."

Carson obligingly trundled off, leaving me alone with three things: a burnt hand, a confused Elizabeth, and the single notion that I was very, very screwed.

THE GENERAL RAMBLINGS OF THE WALRUS:

This was a necessary chapter, but their wasn't a lot of action. Don't worry, the next one is better, Ron's POV on how they got to Atlantis, and his first hour or so there.

Font Key

_Dream_

_Internal Monologue_

**Emphasis**

**Location**

Replies:

Belisse: Don't worry, you'll get not one but two chapter explaining what's going on and how this is possible.

PurpleYin: Believe or not, I wasn't trying to be evil with this, I just had writers block.

Eris86: Well I've updated, and I'm pretty sure I've come up with an idea no one will be able to figure out. (Evil grin, maniacal laughter)

PentagonMerlin: Yep, red hair and freckles.** And** a Granger. I have to ask though- what exactly does red hair smell like?

Missmcweir: Absolutely fabulous randomness! Wow, that's high praise. And half the time people are on here they should be doing something else. As for Remus- I have plans for his character. Big evil plans. Mwahahaha (chokes, coughs, falls off chair) Don't worry, I'm okay! Thanks for reviewing. Twice! Thanks for reviewing. Twice! (grins happily)

And again, thanks to my beta, who had to ut up with me changing tenses halfway through the piece.


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